The Search
by Jane3
Summary: Humor—Two blond hotties get stranded in the desert while heading to the next arena


Plot/Synopsis: Humor-Two blond hotties get stranded in the desert while heading to the next arena  
  
AN: This story just seemed to take a turn for the silliness  
  
Disclaimer: I own none, while I completely and utterly wish I did  
  
  
  
The Search  
  
The desert seemed to stretch on forever. The sun was bearing down hard on their bodies and they had long since disposed of their t-shirts. Adam looked at his companion snoring beside him in the passenger side seat of the truck, although Paul would never admit that he was one to do so. He smiled at that thought-Paul could be so stubborn.  
  
They had only been stranded for a couple hours, but considering the fast paced, travel-laden lives they had led-it had felt like they were there for days. Then a familiar feeling hit him in the gut. He had to pee. As he reached over to open the door, Paul turned onto his side muttering to himself about Stephanie bitching to him about getting married.  
  
Adam shook his head and grinned as he exited the truck and found a suitable ditch off the side of the road. For him, Trish had been bugging him about the same topic. Marriage. To be honest, the girl had dropped more than a few subtle hints. He snorted as he thought of Trish leaving an issue of 'Brides' magazine near his gym bag last week. Oh, he loved her, that was for sure, but the truth was he wasn't ready yet.  
  
As he walked back to the truck he had found that Paul had awaken and was looking underneath the hood of the rental. If there was one thing that could describe Paul's mood right now it was angry, actually there were two words. Angry and cranky. He couldn't believe he let Adam talk him into driving through the desert to get to the next arena. 'Take the road less traveled,' he said. 'This will be the more scenic route,' he reasoned. Oh how very true indeed, cacti and dirt, very scenic. And having taken 'the road less traveled' they were yet to be rescued by any 'good Samaritans'. How very ironic.  
  
Paul cursed as he felt a drop of sweat on his temple roll down onto his chest. And if there was any damn one thing he couldn't stand about the whole situation it was this damn heat! Stupid Adam. Stupid stupid Adam!  
  
"Well, the car is shit," Paul announced with a shrug as he looked at his hands, now covered in motor oil.  
  
Adam gave a slight smile, "I know, that's why we're still here," he said a bit redundantly.  
  
Paul snorted, "Humor me, it will be the one thing to keep me from kicking your ass," he stated with a scowl, the end portion of his sentence punctuated with more than a bit of anger.  
  
A lesser man would have been intimidated, "Don't be so touchy Paul. Think about it? We're getting some real great tans."  
  
The scowl on Paul's face slowly turned into a handsome smile. Tans. He shook his head. Adam, forever the optimist. The boy could change his mood in an instant. He reached into the truck for his bottled water and doused his head and took a healthy swig. Then he threw it to Adam, he did the same. Tans. He shook his head again, still smiling.  
  
*  
  
"Holy Jesus!"  
  
Vince was panicking. Big time. His main eventer and biggest up and comer hadn't been seen for nearly a day. They would have to put on a pay per view show in less than 3 hours.  
  
"So you tried their cell-phones?" A pause. "No answer?...they're not in reaching distance?" Vince said incredulously. "Well, I don't care, just find them dammit-we've got a show in three hours, so find them, otherwise your ass is fired!" He said hanging the phone up and effectively ending the conversation.  
  
"Vince?" He hadn't even noticed that someone had entered his office.  
  
"What?" Vince said agitated as he rubbed his forehead, trying to ease his throbbing headache.  
  
"I think you should put me in the main event tonight," he said confidently.  
  
Vince looked up from his hands into the face of Kurt Angle.  
  
"What?" Vince said again although he had heard Kurt's request.  
  
"I said," Kurt began.  
  
"I know what you said. Main event Kurt? Are you crazy? We've still got to wait on Paul and Adam here," he said matter of factly. He winced as he reached into his top desk drawer and withdrew two pills of Advil. Then looking at the bottle he took four and a healthy swig of Poland Springs.  
  
"Paul and Adam? Who freakin cares about Paul and Adam? I sure don't."  
  
Vince sighed, not feeling like explaining the changing demographics of the wrestling viewing audience.  
  
"Cmon Vince, Chris (Benoit) and I are gonna put on one hell of a performance, In fact most are saying that our match is gonna steal the show!" Kurt said not understanding why Vince wouldn't put him and Chris Benoit in the main event since Paul was out and Adam too.  
  
Vince lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, closing his eyes and savoring the flavor before answering, "Women ages 18 -35 like blondes. Paul and Adam are blondes," he said simply. "And Kurt, quite frankly, you're bald and well Chris, whenever the man smiles it's like watching a glass break in slow motion." He took another drag of the cigarette wondering why he ever quit in the first place. "I mean, you guys are great wrestlers, but you've got no appeal," his appraisal biting yet nothing you would expect less of a McMahon.  
  
Kurt's face and demeanor seemed to drop right into the bottom of his red white and blue wrestling boots as his shoulders slackened and he turned to leave the office. As he was about to leave the office, Vince stopped him.  
  
"Wait, Kurt, fine, you and Chris have got your shot. If Paul and Adam aren't back by show-time I'm putting all the marbles on you two," he said knowing that this would have to be the most likely scenario.  
  
Kurt's body straightened up immediately and a bright smile lit up his face, "Oh you won't regret it Vince, you won't I promise," he said.  
  
"Good!" Vince said enthusiastically as he watched Kurt leave the office. The smile died off of Vince's face as he reached into a lower cabinet and pulled out a shot glass and a bottle of Jack. It could be a long night. 


End file.
